Nightmares
by dominoharvey
Summary: Natasha has an awful nightmare and Clint tries to wake up her. But there's more to it than he thinks. Clintasha one-shot


Whenever Clint and Natasha slept together, it was a 50/50 chance that one of them would have a nightmare. Even before they shared a bed, if one of them woke up and heard the other one struggling they would slip into the room and stay until they calmed down or fell back asleep.

This time it was Natasha. She never realized she was in a dream, always too caught up in her own head. And this time the dream wasn't a memory from the Red Room or her life before Shield.

It was worse.

She started whimpering softly against the pillow. The sounds were gentle, almost a whisper. Her head was shifting from side to side but it wasn't enough to wake Clint. Natasha's hands started clenching the bed sheets, her nails digging into the skin on her hands.

_not until i make him kill you_

Her pulse sped up, her breathing turning ragged. The whimpers were louder now. Her lips began to frame words but she wasn't talking. Not yet.

_slowly, intimately_

Natasha's body jerked suddenly, as if shocked. Clint's arm was draped across her stomach, so he was jostled when she moved. His eyes opened a fraction. When he heard Natasha's whimpers he sat up. His hip was against hers, his hand resting against her stomach. He watched her as she struggled. Clint didn't want to want to intervene unless he had to.

Now she was talking, the words were broken and pleading and they scared him more than anything else. "No…..please don't…..don't, please.." Clint had never heard Natasha beg for anything before, and she would never beg for her life. This couldn't be a red room dream. This was something else.

_in every way he knows you fear_

Her brow furrowed followed by a sharp intake of breath. As if she were in pain. Clint watched her anxiously, trying to figure out what to do. If he touched her he knew she would lash out and try to defend herself. But he didn't think he could watch her much longer without doing something.

_and when he screams, I'll split his skull_

Natasha screamed and that was the last straw for Clint. He moved his body so that he was straddling her. She reacted instantly, throwing up her hands trying to push him off. He grabbed her wrists and held her arms down against her sides. "Natasha, wake up!" he yelled. _Please, baby, wake up_. "Natasha!"

Her eyes flew open suddenly, her expression a mixture of horror and anguish. "It's me. It's just me, Nat. You're okay." His grip loosened on her wrists as he moved his hands to cup her face. "Don't worry, it's not real. It's all a dream."

Natasha stared at him, breathing heavily. Her body was coated in sweat and she was shaking. Clint smoothed her hair back from her face. "You're okay. You're safe." He waited until her eyes were clear before moving off of her. Natasha sat up, wincing at a sudden jab in her hands. When she looked down she saw that her hands were bleeding from where her nails had dug in. Clint followed her gaze and got up from the bed, returning a few minutes later with a damp cloth. He pressed it against her skin.

"It was different this time, wasn't it?" He kept his eyes on her hands, his tone gentle. He didn't want her to feel cornered or pressured.

When Natasha spoke it came out hoarse. 'It wasn't the Red Room. Or the fire." Clint put bandages on each of her hands. He finally glanced up at Natasha and felt his stomach tighten. She looked awful. Broken. Something wasn't right. Something was seriously wrong

"Natasha, what was it? What did you see?" He couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. Or the anxiety. Natasha shook her head. "I can't talk about it, Clint. I'm sorry, I just can't." Clint sighed in frustration. "Natasha, I want to help you. Please, I need to help you, just tell me how." He was begging but he didn't care.

Natasha let out a shaky breath and Clint could tell she was trying not to cry. "Can you hold me?" The words were small and he knew that she hated to say them but it was all he needed. He pulled her against him tightly. She clung to him. Her hands were throbbing but that didn't stop her from knotting her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. They were pressed together so closely Clint could feel Natasha's heartbeat. It was steadier now, a steady rhythm against his chest. "I got you." he whispered into her hair. "I got you and I'm not letting you go." Natasha felt a few tears escape from her eyes. She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze.

"I'm not letting you go either."


End file.
